The luck is finding a lottery ticket granting you millions in sanity and serenity. The grace is never being disinherited by breath, or having your path crossed by a convention of black cats. The equanimity is dancing with machine guns and guillotines, and still coming out alive; a good head on your shoulders, and a few new moves to one day use when you’re in a pinch. The magic is having all your scars and sorrows unsickened and unpunished, the mind’s madhouse converted into a playground. The music of it all is transforming adversity into symphony, cruelty into consonance, and bombshatter blues into the sweet beat of a jukebox heart.